


let's go for a night swim

by frausorge



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anaheim Ducks, M/M, San Jose Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, it's the new year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's go for a night swim

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary from "Only Baby Sharks" by Chairman Wow. The Ducks probably flew back to Anaheim right after the game on Saturday, but that's very boring and useless, so let's pretend they stuck around in San Jose overnight.

Mirco has just put on his pants and is reaching for his shirt when Eriah slaps him on the back. "Hey, a couple of us are going to head up to the beach," he says quietly. "We'll make a little bonfire or something. You in?"

"Now?" Mirco says. The sun set hours ago, before the start of the game; it doesn't seem like a great time to sit around in the wind on the shore. But Eriah only grins. "Well. Why not?"

"Awesome," Eriah says. "Meet us out in the lot. Tomáš is driving."

"All right."

When Mirco gets outside, there are four guys clustered around Tomáš's car: Tomáš himself, Eriah, Matt Nieto, and a guy Mirco can't place for a moment, till he looks closer and realizes it's one of the Ducks' players. He must be friends with one of the boys.

"All right!" Matt says. "Let's go!" He seems excited; in fact he's been smiling ever since the game ended, more than a preseason win would seem to warrant. No one else remarks on it, though, and they start piling into the car. Tomáš is driving, and Eriah takes the passenger seat, so Mirco gets in the back. The Duck – Etem, Mirco thinks – gets in the other side, but instead of moving towards the middle, he settles in the seat next to the door. And when Matt gets in, he climbs right onto Etem's lap. 

It makes sense, a little – there isn't really quite enough room for three hockey players to sit side by side. But Mirco can't help blinking when Matt curls his arm around Etem's neck. "Cozy," he remarks.

It's the wrong thing to say. Tomáš and Eriah both turn around and fix Mirco with fierce glares. Matt has hidden his face against Etem's hair, and Etem puts a protective hand on Matt's back and raises his eyebrows at Mirco. "Yeah, we're pretty 'cozy'," Etem says. "You got a problem with that?"

"I, a problem - no," Mirco says. If they are actually together, that naturally makes everything much clearer. "It's you Americans who are so tense about it."

Matt laughs a little shakily. 

"I am not American!" Tomáš says. 

"You're, like, thirty percent American now," Eriah says. "By the end of this season it'll probably be sixty percent. Team Czech Republic won't take you anymore, next Worlds. No more partying with Jágr."

"Jarda is very good hockey player," Tomáš says primly. "You are all jealous you don't play with him."

"Sure," Eriah says. "Tell us again about that goal he scored against Slovakia."

Tomáš huffs and puts the car in gear.

* * *

Scott stops to call his wife after the game, so he's a little late getting over to Joe's house. Logan comes to the door to let him in and waves him right out to the pool. "Everyone's outside," Logan says.

"Cool," Scott says. He grabs a beer as they pass through the kitchen and then settles in a deck chair that's miraculously still unclaimed. Most of the guys are indeed either in the pool or clustered around it, but when he looks around, he notices a couple of faces missing. "Hey Joe," he calls, "where'd the kids fuck off to?"

"Dunno," Joe says from his own chair. He's holding a beer too, but he's so nearly horizontal that it seems impossible for him to drink any of it without pouring it on his face. 

"I heard one of them say something about Ocean Beach," Tommy says.

"Ocean Beach? They know that's, like, cold, right?" Pavs says.

"They will freeze their balls off," Nemo says, sounding delighted at the prospect.

"Hey, Daddy!" Joe says. "Bring the kids with you next time, eh? Tell 'em my pool's heated."

Jason salutes. "Aye, aye – uh – sir," he finishes awkwardly.

Joe snorts, but there's a pained twist to his mouth. 

Patty heaves himself out of the pool and goes to drape himself over Joe in the chair. Joe lets out a grunt at the weight – he's a big guy, but Pat's not much smaller – but doesn't try to escape. 

"Joe," Pat says earnestly, in his serious media voice, "you'll always be captain of my heart." 

"Shut the fuck up," Joe says, but he's smiling now, and proceeds to enforce this command by covering Pat's mouth with his own.

Crisis averted. Scott sits back in his chair and takes a pull from his bottle. 

When he finishes the beer he takes a dip in the pool, which is heated as promised and feels amazing on his muscles, still a little sore from Friday's game even though he didn't play tonight. He does a couple of real laps and then just splashes around for a bit with the guys. Eventually he gets back out, wanting to find some water to drink. 

Joe and Patty are kissing in the deck chair, again, or still, Scott doesn't know. What is plain to see, though, is Joe's hands on Pat's ass, and that's something nobody needs inflicted on them. "Get a room!" Scott says.

Joe lifts a hand and flips Scott off without looking at him. "It's my fucking house," Joe says. But Pat draws his head back a little to look down at Joe.

"Actually," Pat says, "I wouldn't mind moving to a bed."

"Oh," Joe says, "well, in that case." And Scott was wrong before; it's the smile that passes between the two of them then that nobody else needs to see, like, ever. 

Fortunately they do actually get up after that. Joe's T-shirt and trunks are damp all down the front where Pat was lying on him. 

"Last one out turns off the lights," Joe calls, and a chorus of whistles and whoops follows him and Pat as they disappear into the house.


End file.
